


Chrysalis

by Zivitz



Series: Maisie Makes Three [1]
Category: Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Family Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Healthy Relationships, Parent-Child Relationship, Psychological Trauma, relationships are hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 10:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20329831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zivitz/pseuds/Zivitz
Summary: Change isn't easy.





	Chrysalis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poeticandvaguelysweet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticandvaguelysweet/gifts).

> For poeticandvaguelysweet, because she's brought me so much happiness, and because she puts up with me. 
> 
> This is a prequel of sorts to the other stories in the series, but you don't have to read them for it to make sense.

“**STOP IT! JUST STOP IT**!” Maisie’s voice interrupted their argument, breaking on the last word, and she turned away sobbing. Seconds later a door slammed.

They looked at each other. “That went well.” Owen sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “This isn’t working.”

Claire felt like her heart was simultaneously stopping and going triple time. She was afraid to say anything; sure the next word out of his mouth was going to be “us”. That he’d pick up his things and walk out of her life again, leaving two broken hearts this time instead of just one.

“We can’t fight like this. Yell. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the make up sex is amazing, but-“

“But we need to do better,” she agreed, exhaling loudly. Thankful the conversation wasn’t going to take an awful turn.

“Yeah. A lot better, apparently.” He frowned in the direction of Maisie’s room. “Has she even heard people yelling at each other?”

Claire leaned her weight against a kitchen stool. “I don’t know. I doubt it. Everything there was very… formal.”

Owen took the other stool and leaned his elbows on the counter, putting his hands over his face. His voice was muffled when he spoke. “What are we gonna do? We can’t keep doing this. We’re just going to go in the same old circles and end up in the same place we did last time.” He laughed humourlessly. “The last _two_ times.”

“Mmm. We have Maisie to think of now.”

He shook his head and turned to her. “No, not Maisie. We have to think of _us_, Claire. I want this,” he gestured between them, “so much. You don’t even know how much. I don’t want it to end up like before. I just don’t know how to _change_ it.”

Claire worried at her bottom lip. “Would you… consider seeing someone?”

“What, like a shrink? Been there, done that.”

She blinked. That was new information. “Um, I was thinking more like a couples counselor. I want this, too,” said, reaching out to brush some hair off his face, a flush of warmth coursing through her as he leaned into her touch. “But we’ve never been good at figuring out the important stuff. Not really. If we’re really going to do this, if it’s going to last, we need to find a way to do that. For us, _and_ for Maisie. I think we need help.”

Owen searched her face, and then closed his eyes briefly. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Okay. I mean, it’s worth a shot, right? It’s not like I’ve got any better ideas.” He reached out to take her hand, squeezing it gently. “So how do we do this, then?”

“Well, I’ve got a couple of leads-“

He laughed. “Of course you do.” She wouldn’t have brought it up if she hadn’t already researched half the counselors in the city.

“-but I should go check on Maisie first.” Her eyes went to the archway leading into the hall. The initial sobbing had fallen into silence. They’d already left her too long. God, this was complicated. Maybe this is why people started out with babies instead of being tossed into the deep end.

“No, I’ll go. I was the one who started yelling.” She started to withdraw her hand, but he held it tight. “Hey. I’m sorry. I was being a dick. We’re going to sort this out, right? No more walking away.”

“No more walking away.” Claire used his hand to pull him down into a kiss. “You want me to come rescue you in a bit?”

He laughed as he pulled away, walking backwards toward the hall. “Nah, I think I’ve got this.”

She raised a brow. “You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” He rounded the corner and Claire smirked to herself, then schooled her face into something much more innocent as Owen poked his head around the corner. “But, uh, maybe come check on us in like ten minutes?”

\--

_Okay, Grady. You can do this. Upset nine year old. Piece of cake. _Owen knocked on the door. “Maisie? Can I come in?” He waited for her permission, which sounded pathetically tearful, before going in, leaving the door open so Claire could listen in if she wanted.

Maisie was curled on her side in the middle of her bed, clutching one of the stuffed animals they’d rescued from her ruined room at the manor house- some kind of bird with a santa hat. She looked miserably like the first time he saw her; eyes red rimmed and cheeks scarlet and mottled from crying. She was sniffling and breathing heavily, trying to keep more tears at bay. When she spoke, her voice was thick and nasal from tears and snot.

“I want to go _home_,” she said, and then burst into sobs.

“Oh, Maisie,” he said, heart breaking as he grabbed a box of tissues off the dresser and crossed to sit next to her on the bed. “I know.” He plucked a few tissues from the box and tried wiping some of the mess from her face, only half successful. He rubbed her back as she cried, marveling at how his hand covered nearly half her upper body. “I know,” he soothed.

When her sobs subsided to silent tears and deep breaths, he handed her some tissue. He considered her as she tried drying tears that were still coming, and half-smiled when her nose honked as she blew it. “I know what it’s like,” he said suddenly. “To lose your whole life. Not just the place and the things, but the people and how you lived. And never be able to go back.”

Maisie blinked at him in surprise, sitting up slightly. “You do?”

He smiled sadly. “Yeah, I do. Claire, too. You were only little when it happened, but me and Claire-“

“Claire and I,” Maisie corrected, and he tilted his head.

“Claire and I,” he allowed, “lost everything when we had to leave Jurassic World. We didn’t just work there, we lived there. It was _home_. Then the Indominous got out, and we lost our jobs, our homes, our friends.”

“The raptors,” she whispered, shuffling closer to him. He nodded, feeling the pull in the back of his throat even after three and a half years.

“The raptors,” he said thickly, and snapped his fingers. “Poof, just like that. All of it, gone.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Maisie digested this information. She knew about Jurassic World, Grandpa had told her about it and later, when the volcano became active, she read everything she could about the dinosaurs and where they lived. She knew people had been hurt and some had died. But she hadn’t thought much about the people who ran the park and how they had to leave everything behind. She crawled over to Owen and he lifted his arm so she could slip under to cuddle by his side. His arm was big and heavy and she loved how it felt to be safe and snug under it. She looked up to see Owen staring into nothing. Lost in thought, Grandpa used to say, and the tears threatened to spill over again.

“What did you do?”

Owen shook his head slightly and looked down at her. “Well, we stayed at a hotel at first while things got-“

Maisie shook her head. “No, I mean what did you **do**?”

“Oh. I cried,” he said honestly. _And had lots of sex, but we’ll leave _that_ one out._

“You _cried_?”

“Well, yeah,” he said somewhat defensively, and then reminded himself she was just a kid. “It’s not easy to go from normal to nothing overnight. And a lot of stuff happened that day. Kind of like you.” He squeezed her slightly to his side. They sat for a few minutes before the tears welled up again and she couldn’t help herself.

“I miss Grandpa.” She buried her face in Owen’s shirt, not much caring what a mess she was making. She felt him rubbing a hand up and down her arm as she cried and tried to imagine it was Grandpa; but Grandpa hadn’t been able to hug her like that in a long time, Grandpa was old and weak. She sobbed harder at the thought.

Owen held the girl as she cried, not really knowing what else to do. He saw Claire through the gap in the door, raised brows offering help if he needed it. He shook his head slightly. They’d be okay, at least for now. He used his free hand to signal two more minutes, and she nodded before disappearing.

“You know,” he said, when her crying trailed off again, “sometimes good things can happen at the same time as bad ones.”

She sniffled and he handed her another tissue. “What do you mean?”

“Well, a lot of really bad things happened the night we met. But we ended up with you. That’s not a bad thing. That’s… that’s a really good thing, actually.”

“What about Jurassic World?”

“What about it?" 

“Did something good happen then, too?”

Owen smiled. _Oh hell yeah, it did. _“Absolutely. That’s how Claire and I got together the first time. In fact, _two_ good things happened that night at the manor. I got you, and I got Claire back, too.” He watched her through the gap in the door as he leaned down to whisper at Maisie, “I missed her a lot.”

“Then why were you shouting? You always shout at each other.” Her breath hitched and she took another tissue. “I don’t like it,” she mumbled, looking away.

“It’s… complicated,” he waffled, eyes pleading with Claire to come in and save him.

Maisie cocked her head. “Why? If you like each other, why don’t you get along?”

Claire decided it was time to put him out of his misery. “We do get along, Maisie. We just have trouble figuring that out.”

Maisie frowned, shifting slightly to let Claire sit beside her. “I don’t understand.”

Claire laughed softly, brushing a wisp of hair off the girl’s forehead much as she had Owen’s, before wrapping her arm around her. “Neither did we.” At Maisie’s pursed lips, she said, “Owen and I are too much alike in a lot of ways, and too different in others. We agree on a lot, but we come at things from different angles and we’re both too stubborn to back down. So we get angry, and we shout, and then eventually we realize that we’re saying the same thing in different ways, or that we’re just not going to agree and arguing is pointless. We both have quick tempers, but they also blow over pretty fast. It’s a habit we got into, and that’s not fair. To you, or to us.”

“So what are you going to do? Are you… are you going to break up?”

“**_Fuck_** no,” said Owen, physically startling both Maisie and Claire with the sudden profanity and vehemence behind it. Claire frowned over Maisie’s head and Owen winced slightly. “Sorry. No, we’re not breaking up. We’re going to get help.”

“Help?” Maisie looked from Owen to Claire from her position cradled between them, each with an arm around one of her shoulders. “How do you get help for fighting?”

“Not for fighting,” said Claire. “For communication. Just like there are people to talk to for how you’re feeling, there are people who help couples learn how to communicate effectively.”

“Which isn’t to say we won’t ever fight,” grinned Owen, and Claire knew exactly where his head was at, “But hopefully we’ll get better at doing that, too. And just…” he faltered.

“Things will be quieter around here eventually,” Claire continued. “But that’s not something you should have to worry about. I’m sorry we argue so much, honey. We’re going to try our best to change that. You’ve been dealing with so much, and I’m so proud of you. It’s not fair for us to add to that burden.”

Maisie nodded, a deep sigh working out of her as she slumped against Claire’s shoulder, as if the mere acknowledgement of her suffering lifted a weight from her shoulders. She yawned and closed her eyes. Crying took a lot out of you. She felt a shift from her other side, heard Owen whisper something about chicken nuggets and felt Claire’s response rumble gently in her chest. Claire was rubbing her arm to ward off the chill of Owen’s departure and it was so warm and soothing and safe, she felt herself drifting off-

-then sat bolt upright as a thought occurred to her. Claire jumped slightly at the suddenness of the movement, and then laughed at her own surprise. “What?”

“Owen said you lost everything at Jurassic World, too.”

“Oh. Yeh, I... I did.”

“Owen lost the raptors. What did you lose?” Maisie was amazed at her own boldness. This was none of her business. But she knew how much Owen loved the raptors. And she knew Claire worked in the office, helping to run Jurassic World. So what about the office was so great? Aren’t there just other offices?

“I-“ Claire paled, and Maisie began to backtrack. Clearly this was more sensitive than she’d thought. 

“I’m sorry, Claire, I shouldn’t have as--“

“No, it’s okay.” The colour began returning, and she looked at Maisie. “You’re right. It doesn’t seem like much to lose. But I worked at Jurassic World for years. It was my life. I gave my life to the park. And then it was just- gone. And it was my fault- or,” she said as Maisie opened her mouth to protest, “at least partly my fault. People died. My assistant…”

Maisie threw her arms around Claire’s middle. She hadn’t known that part. She’d googled Claire, googled both of them actually, the first opportunity she had after… After. But she hadn’t thought about cost in terms of emotions. But then, thinking about Grandpa and Iris and even Mr. Mills… “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

She felt Claire’s hand in her hair. “It’s okay. It was… I got through it. I had Owen- we had each other. And now,” she said, and Maisie could feel the kiss pressed to her head, “We have you, too. Maisie makes three. We’ll be okay.”

Maisie considered Claire’s words. _Maisie makes three_. This wasn’t home, not yet. But… it could be. She felt a warmth bubble up, soothing the ache in her chest and untying the knot in her gut. She nodded. “We’ll be okay.”


End file.
